A Rose's Worth
by AngelTeen.Rae
Summary: Arnav and Khushi love each other, no one can doubt that not even Khushi but why does it suddenly feel like everything is slipping away, like that love was but a dream not able to withstand the rush of reality?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer - Characters belong to 4Lions Productions but the story, dialogues and characters you dont recognize as theirs are mine or otherwise separate disclaimers shall be provided as and when needed. Please respect this as someone else's creation and dont plagiarize.  
The lyrics are from the song - 'Buy me a rose' by Luther Vandross.**

**So yes, I am back with some of the stories that have been locked up for a long time. Now the fate of this endeavour depends upon you - the readers. If you want me to post more of my stories here, please do leave your feedback because for all the "OPEN YOUR BLOG" screams, there wasnt enough response when I did do so.**

**This is the first part of my ThreeShot - 'A Rose's Worth'**

**Do leave your feedback and I will post the rest of the parts. :)**

**A Rose's Worth**

_**Part 1**_

_He works hard to give her all he thinks she wants  
A three car garage, her own credit card  
He pulls in late to wake her up with a kiss goodnight  
If he could only read her mind, she'd say…_

"Khushi, I will be late. Khaana-vaana kha lena and don't wait up for me. Bye."  
("Khushi, I will be late. Please do have your dinner and dont wait up for me. Bye.")

And he left. Without a look back, without waiting even for a moment.

Because if he had, he would have noticed his wife's face fall, her eyes well up with an overbearing sadness and the loosening of tightness in her shoulders as they drooped.

But like all the times since a long time, he didn't turn back and he didn't notice the long drawn sigh that escaped his wife or the defeat in her stance as she walked back to the kitchen, his barely used plate in her hands.

It had been like this since the first couple of months of their marriage when he had bagged an international project and had gotten more busy than ever before, not finding any spare time to spend with his family, at home or with her.

She knew he loved her. She had never doubted that.

But she just…she just _wished_ he would spend some time with her, think about her the way she thought about him – her likes and dislikes, her wishes, her dreams…but then she thought was she being selfish?

_Buy me a rose  
Call me from work  
Open a door for me  
What would it hurt?_

"Arnav, aa gayye aap?"  
("Arnav, you are back?")

"Haan…sorry, tumhe jagaa diya. Khaana kha liya na tumne?"  
("Yes...sorry, I woke you up. You had your dinner?")

"Ji. Aapne? Aur Jeejaji* ne?"  
("Yes. You? And Jeejaji?")

"Haan…we ordered."

"Arnav…aapko pata hai aaj hum Preeto se mile! Woh apne pati ke saath ghar aayee th-"  
("Arnav...do you know that today I met Preeto! She had come over along with her husban-")

"Khushi, I am really tired, _Jaan_. Can we talk about this later? Goodnight."

He didn't wait for her to reply, just turned around and slept off with his back to her, yet she had formed one on her lips knowing fully well that even is he was listening, she wouldn't voice it.

Why?

Because she was afraid.

Afraid to hurt him.

Afraid to tell him that it was not okay. That it was not done that they weren't talking anymore. That it was not acceptable that he had no time for her anymore. That it was not fine that he didn't seem to know her anymore.

Fingering the diamond ring he had bought for her or rather ordered to be delivered to her just a few weeks back with absolutely no sense of the personal touch that she so craved, she let a silent tear cascade down the cheek he hadn't caressed in ages and brushed it off almost as soon as it made an appearance, telling herself once again that her husband was a busy busy man.

That he was too busy for her but he _loved_ her all the same.

But then a niggling inside her brain kept her awake into the late hours of the night…was this what she had resigned her whole life to? This indifference which wasn't really his fault either? This life which had his love but only on the sidelines? This bond where companionship was missing? This relationship where they both seem to be looking for something different?

And the irony?

Even if the answer to all of those questions was 'Yes', Khushi still wouldnt even dream of leaving him not because of any noble reason of how he would ever live without her because she knew for a fact that he couldn't but because of her own self.

Because she knew without a doubt that she couldn't live without him. And she couldn't even bear to try.

And that hurt. That hurt a lot.

_  
_*Jeejaji - Sister's husband_

**Remember, Part 2 and 3 depend upon your feedback. I am trying out writing here and your support and feedback would mean a lot. :)**

**AT**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer - Characters belong to 4Lions Productions but the story, dialogues and characters you dont recognize as theirs are mine or otherwise separate disclaimers shall be provided as and when needed. Please respect this as someone else's creation and dont plagiarize.  
The lyrics are from the song - 'Buy me a rose' by Luther Vandross.**

**So yes, I am back with some of the stories that have been locked up for a long time. Now the fate of this endeavour depends upon you - the readers. If you want me to post more of my stories here, please do leave your feedback because for all the "OPEN YOUR BLOG" screams, there wasnt enough response when I did do so.**

**This is the first part of my ThreeShot - 'A Rose's Worth'**

**Do leave your feedback and I will post the rest of the parts. :)**

**A Rose's Worth**

_**Part 2**_

_Now the days have grown to years of feeling all alone_

_And she cant help but wonder what she's doing wrong_

Slowly she kneaded the dough, letting her fists bury themselves deep in the soft, smooth mass of flour, her thoughts on the other hand travelling the recesses of the memories which she so cherished but which now seemed almost as if they weren't her own.

The first time he had actually gifted her something…that ridiculously expensive bag which she had ruined within hours!

_**2 lakhs!**_

And still he hadn't said a word. Yes, he had rolled his eyes in exasperation but not an impertinent word had left his mouth even though she would have more or less deserved it that time!

Or when he had taken every opportunity to hold her, kiss her, tease her into submission to their relationship of husband and wife. He had held her trembling form against him, his need not unknown to her but still he had stopped when she had told him to, had respected her enough, in a very odd or rather _ASR _way, when she told him her need to be properly married before they consummated their relationship…

Oh she could almost laugh at how her irate _Laad Governor_ had decided to make a havan-kund by himself and fulfill her wish only to end the evening shouting out the words spoken by most people in their most tender voices.

_**"That I love you, damn it!"**_

Well, most people were normal.

Her _Laad Governor_…not so much.

Or when he had fought himself and accepted defeat by the man she had made of him and married her inspite of all odds being stacked against them, her hand always held firmly in his never to let go, never to part with…

_Yet…_

Yet now it seemed like the hold had loosened. That the touch had weathered. That life had caught on.

And she just couldn't understand how…or _why._

Was she not novel enough anymore?

Was she not beautiful enough anymore?

Was she just _not enough_ anymore?

_Lately she'd try anything to turn his head  
__Would it make a difference if she said…_

_"Arnav, yeh sari kaisi hai?" ("Arnav, how is this sari?") she twirled in front of her husband, hoping fervently that he would look up from the file he was poring over lounged on their bed, in a sequined sari of his favourite colour and having a lot more cleavage than she would have preferred but well that was a small price to pay for her super busy's husband's attention…_

_It was indeed __**too small**__ a price because he didn't look up but he commented still, "Very nice" and that made it worse._

_"Arnav, humne aapke liye specially aaj aloo-puri aur bina cheeni ki kheer bana-"  
("Arnav, I have prepared aloo-puri and sugarless kheer specially for you today-")_

_"Sorry, Khushi, but maine clients ke saath khaana kha liya…we were staying back quite late na…"  
("Sorry, Khushi, but I had my dinner with the clients...we were staying back quite late na...")_

_"Arnav, dekhiye na! Humne aaj Nanheji se laptop seekha!"  
("Arnav, see! I learnt how to use a laptop today from Nanheji!")_

_"Very nice, Khushi…ab zara meri dawaai dedo. I am very sleepy. And kal subah ek important meeting bhi hai…"  
("Very nice, Khushi...now please give me my medicine. I am very sleepy. As it is I have an important meeting tomorrow morning...")_

"Khushi, yeh tumhaare liye. Sorry main Buaji ke ghar se tumhe lene nahin aa paya."  
("Khushi, this is for you. Sorry I couldnt come to pick you up from Buaji's house.")

She broke out of her reverie as she heard her husband's husky baritone and an excitement surged through her to be called out by him which turned to a deep sense of disappointment with herself when she found that he was holding a sari box in one hand but with the other messaging on his phone.

And all of a sudden it was too much.

All of a sudden she just didn't want to_ understand_ anymore.

All of a sudden, she let the tears which had been filling her eyes for so long but had not yet been given an audience were allowed to fall from her eyes.

And this time she didn't brush it away.

_She let him see them._

She let him witness them before she bolted out of the room, not hiding her sobs, her hurt anymore.

_Buy me a rose  
__Call me from work  
__Open a door for me  
__What would it hurt  
__Show me you love me by the look in your eyes  
__These are the little things I need the most in my life._

* * *

_*Aloo-puri - A type of food consisting of a curry/mash of potatoes served with fried rotis of sort  
Kheer - Rice pudding (Of a kind...I guess!)  
Sari - You should seriously know this one! :P Google it! Its a garment worn by women  
Buaji - Father's sister, aunt_

**Last part left. Will post soon. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer - Characters belong to 4Lions Productions but the story, dialogues and characters you dont recognize as theirs are mine or otherwise separate disclaimers shall be provided as and when needed. Please respect this as someone else's creation and dont plagiarize.  
The lyrics are from the song - 'Buy me a rose' by Luther Vandross.**

**So yes, I am back with some of the stories that have been locked up for a long time. Now the fate of this endeavour depends upon you - the readers. If you want me to post more of my stories here, please do leave your feedback because for all the "OPEN YOUR BLOG" screams, there wasnt enough response when I did do so.**

**This is the last part of my ThreeShot - 'A Rose's Worth'**

**Do leave your feedback :)**

**A Rose's Worth**

_**Part 3**_

_And the more that he lives less that he tries  
To show her the love that he holds inside_

If there was one thing Arnav Singh Raizada found himself completely helpless against, they were tears either in his sister's eyes or in his wife's – the two most important woman of his life.

And it was then obviously the presence of them in his wife's eyes that jolted him out of the message talk with Aman that he had been busy in and made him realize that something was awry.

But _what?_

"Khushi?!"

He called out after her but to no avail as with just a swish of her chunni, she had vanished from his sight, her sobs however leaving their trail behind.

He quickly messaged a "Later" to Aman and bounded up the stairs to hi-their room.

He stepped in to find his wife by the poolside, her shoulders still racking as she softly cried into her hands and he felt that familiar ache pierce through his heart at that most hated sound of his life and with no caution thrown in the wind, he walked towards her – halting only when he stood directly behind her.

He kept a hand on her shoulder only to have it shaken off brutally and her to turn around with blazing eyes.

"Aap chale jaayiye yahan se! Hum theek hai…hamesha ki tarah. Aapko chintaa karne ki zaroorat nahin hai! Jaayiye!"  
("Go away from here! I am fine...like always. You dont need to worry! Go!")

But in the same breath, the heat of rage dimmed and tiredness and _pretense_ took over and she said with a smile painfully stretching across the wet red lips and in a voice softer and which seemed _resigned_ she said,

"Humein maaf kar dijiye. Hum…woh…kuch nahin. Hum theek hai. Aapko bahut kaam hai na, aap jaayiye hum theek hain, Arnav."  
("Forgive me. I...woh...nothing. I am fine. You must be very busy, you go I am fine, Arnav.")

And stretching herself, she placed a kiss on his stubbled cheek before hurrying off, probably thinking or rather hoping that he didn't catch the slight wavering in her steps or how she deftly caught one end of her dupatta and dabbed her eyes with it or the sigh that left her at a concealment well done once again.

Too bad he noticed all of that and more.

_And the more that she gives, more that he sees  
This is the story of you and me_

He slumped.

Arnav Singh Raizada literally slumped into the wicker chair he kept by the poolside where he had planned to spend amazing nights gazing at stars sprawled on it with his Khushi in his arms…plans which _never_ came into being.

His face in his hands, his legs crossed lightly he thought. He thought of how and when had they reached this point in their very new marriage where his wife so openly hid her feelings from him and more importantly a marriage where he did not even realize that something was troubling his wife till she literally spat it out…of course she took it back and that, that made it worse.

It made him realize what a failure of a husband he was being, what a failure of a man in love he was being.

And how _utterly ridiculously absurdly_ lucky he was that she was his wife, that she was the woman he fell in love with. That she by some miracle decided to love him back…and how!

All of a sudden, the clouds of dullness started moving away, the blurriness, the envelope of dust which he didn't even know had gathered on their relationship sifted through and he saw how cruel he had unknowingly been with the woman he claimed to love more than life itself.

She had given him absolutely everything he could have not even in his wildest dreams imagined!

She had given him a family.

A stability.

A security.

A reason to forgive and forget and move on.

Unconditional love.

_She had given him herself_ even after he had left no stone unturned to harm her, to push her away, to _punish_ her for not going.

But she had stayed through it all. She had stayed for him, for _them_.

And what had he done?

He had taken her for granted.

And Arnav felt ashamed of himself. Of his actions.

And the worst part?

This wasn't the first time he was feeling so.

Many a times he had been plagued with thoughts about Khushi, about how lonely she might be feeling with him working all the time, at how much she may be missing him but all those times he had managed to assuage himself with reminders of how it wasn't about him not loving her anymore but rather about him securing a better future for her, for them, for their family, for their business.

And slowly but surely those thoughts had started to knock on his door less and less till they completely blanked out and he hadn't even realized when his excuses had become his habit for breaking her heart.

Heck! He had even forgotten that he was breaking her heart again and again!

And when he had remembered fleetingly, he tried to buy it off with expensive gifts whose mere recollection now was enough to make him sick!

And she? She had braved it all with that beautiful smile of hers in place, with those beautiful words of love still flowing out of her, with that beautiful love of hers for him still guiding her every action, her every thought!

The sari, the food, the waiting up late, the wanting to share her day with him!

_The credit card, the diamond ring, the designer sari!_

**Enough!**

He would make it right.

He would.

_So I bought you a rose  
On my way home from work  
To open the door to the heart that I'd hurt  
And I hope you notice this look in my eyes…_

With a heavy sigh, she let herself settle down on their bed after a long and emotional day, energy completely drained out of her and her heart heavy, more so with the fact that even after that outburst of hers, Arnav had still left for that meeting he had been planning to attend.

_Zaroori meeting thi, Khushi, samjha kar…(It was an important meeting, Khushi, try and understand...)_ she tried to pacify herself – knowing that howsoever important the meeting may have been, her hurt wasn't going to be affected. It was there to stay quite simply because the only remedy to it had deemed himself to be far too busy to be bothered with such day to day problems of hers.

And what was worse that even right now she felt no sense of irony, no sense of anger for him! She just felt a deep sense of loss, a painful sense of disappointment at what they had become.

She was shaken from her thoughts as the wind-chime at the door jingled and in walked her husband, his hair disheveled and she could easily imagine him running his fingers through it in frustration and tiredness and instantly she felt sorry and worried for her husband and even without realizing she was on her feet and the next thing she knew she was helping him to the settee, taking off his suit and relieving him of his briefcase.

"Aap mooh-haath dho lijiye, hum aapke liye coffee lekar aate hain." ("You get fresh, I will get you some coffee.") And unconsciously she dropped a kiss on his head, letting her fingers swipe through the soft strands, willing them to take away some of the tension so visible of his worn out face.

She returned to find the shower running with all of her husband's belongings neatly stored in their place as was his habit yet…

She kept the coffee on the table, only then realizing that the laptop she was so used to seeing perched up and ready not anywhere in sight.

Neither was his phone charging by their bed.

Something was indeed going on?!

_Hey Devi Maiyya! Sab theek rakhna!_ She sent a quick prayer to her favourite goddess for her husband's well being and his business' well being, fervently hoping that nothing had gone wrong with the international project he had so painstakingly been working on…

And that's when her eyes fell on the long single stem rose by her pillow, the crimson of it a beautiful contrast to the pearly white of their mattress.

And suddenly she felt younger, free, secure, in love, _loved._

He was not even completely out of the bathroom, his hair still wet with strands sticking to his face, his plain white cotton kurta bearing the stains of water droplets when something soft collided against him.

And after what seemed like an eternity he felt at home.

In the arms of his wife.

"I love you, Arnav!"

And he vowed to make her feel the same for the rest of his life – everyday. To make her feel that he was her home and she is.

That nothing was above her and nothing could ever be.

That she was his everything.

That she was his life.

"Pack your bags. Aaj raat ki tickets hain."  
("Pack your bags. We fly out tonight.")

_…Cos I am gonna make things right  
For the rest of our life  
And I am gonna hold you tonight  
Do all those little things for the rest of our lives!_

The End

* * *

**_Hope you liked this three-shot. Your feedback will be much appreciated. :)_**

**_AT_**


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